Assaualt on Omaha Beach
by Southslash
Summary: Butter's Land's on Omaha beach during the D Day Invasion and is critically injured. It is up to Kenny to keep him calm and save his life. Will either of them make it out alive? EXTREME GORE! Butters S, Kenny, M Rated M for violence and gore!


Assault On Omaha Beach

**Warning: **This fic features some pretty extreme gore. If you are squeamish towards extreme violence this may not be for you.

**A/N: **There are very few Butter's fics and even fewer depicting the bravery that he shows every once in a while. Remember bravery is not the lack of fear but the ability to face it.

**June 6, 1944**

Day was just starting to break over the horizon as the U.S. Army landing craft made its way towards the beaches of Normandy, France. Private Leapold Scotch was sitting their among twenty or so other men staring out into the abyss. He could hear the pitter patter of the German machine guns and the cries of Comrades ahead of him. He couldn't think as fear took hold. His hands began to shake so much that the Thompson sub machine gun he was holding clanged loudly as it vibrated against the metal seat. He knew he wasn't the only one. Next to him someone was throwing up and all around people were praying.

"LISTEN UP" The lieutenant said, shouting over the hum of the engine. "When that ramp goes down I want everybody to scatter. Make your way forward as fast as possible. The faster you advance the less time you are a target.

Butters swallowed hard. He was shaking from ear to ear now. He didn't even know if he could stand up let alone run. He closed his eyes and thought of what his father had told him. "Do honor to the family name. God help you if you act like a coward Butters." He picked his head up swallowing again.

As the landing craft pulled onto shore Butters could see the carnage close up. Men lying with their guts hanging out, arms and legs blow off, dying. His eyes went wide, if there was a hell he couldn't imagine it being worse than this. Suddenly the craft stopped, those seconds before the ramp opened the thought came to him that this could be his last moment on earth.

The ramp came down with a hard bang and Butters feet carried him forward. Machine gun fire surrounded him as the guy to his left went down. He could hear people screaming for their Mothers and hear the awful patter of bullets hitting flesh. Putting his head down he just kept moving forward, determined to get to the cover under the pill boxes hundreds of yards in front of him.

He was running so hard he didn't have time to stop as he slammed into the bunker. He recoiled back off the cement and fell on his butt. He picked himself and sat under the huge structure planning out his next move. He was extremely relieved having made it to safety of this huge concrete block. He was so distracted he didn't hear the German grenade fall next to him. As the grenade exploded He was tossed up into the air. For a second he didn't know what had happened. He hit the ground hard and his eyes went wide. On the ground to the right of him was a left arm severed just below the shoulder. He looked to his left and realized it was his.

An ear piercing shout left his lungs as the pain overwhelmed his body. His senses started to get hazy and Butters feared this was the end. He could feel himself fading out and took one last look at the smoky sky thinking it was the last thing he would ever see.

Suddenly he felt a needle push into his thigh. His senses slowly returned to normal as the morphine took effect, dulling the pain enough to make it just bearable. He realized there was someone leaning over him. A lanky blonde with a cigarette and a medic patch on his arm. He had a warm, compassionate expression on his face.

" What's your name solider." The medic said looking him in the eye.

"Leopold Scotch." But my friends call me Butters.

"I like that name." The medic said digging around in his bag

"I'm goanna die aren't I." Butters said tears streaming down his face.

"Nobody dies one my watch." The medic said pulling out equipment. "Where you from Scotch." The medic said. It was his job to keep this poor soul as distracted as possible from the pain and horror of his situation while he worked to try and save his life.

"Small town in Colorado." Butters said between wails.

"I like small towns. Good food. What's your favorite thing that your mamma cooks?" Kenny said assessing the situation. Butters was bleeding out fast and he knew he had to close that wound. He was goanna have to burn it closed and hope the young blonde could take the pain.

" Macaroni and cheese with cornbread."

Kenny smiled back down at him. "One of my favorites. Okay Scotch your goanna be just fine but I need you to do one thing for me okay. I want to close your eyes and imagine that you are at home eating your mother's macaroni. Forget about everything that's going on here, just immerse yourself so far that you can taste it. Can you do that for me?"

Butters shook his head closing his eyes. Kenny took out a frying pan and his blow torch. He had no choice. He was going to have to cauterize the wound right here. "Describe to me what you're having." Kenny said as he heated up the metal frying pan.

"Creamy Macaroni and Cheese with some cornbread and some lemonade." Butters said almost smiling.

"Good, very good." Kenny said dropping the torch and pressing the red hot frying pan to Butter's wound.

A blood curdling scream escaped Butter's mouth and tears streamed down his cheeks as the flesh on his shoulder was seared closed. "You're doing great Butters." Kenny said removing the frying pan. He took Butters remaining hand and gave it a squeeze. He kept talking, trying to distract the solider from the pain as he finished disinfecting and wrapping the wound. "Guess what Buddy, you're going home! I bet they give you a metal and everything." Kenny said. Butters screamed again as antiseptic was poured over his burned flesh. "Your folks are goanna be so proud of you a big war hero and everything."

Butters opened his eyes and Kenny was smiling down at him packing his medic bag back up.

"I'm just about done here kid." Kenny was tying a tourniquet to the top of Butters shoulder to sop any residual blood flow. He then took a roll of gauze and wrapped the bottom of Butters Stump. He stroked his hand across Butter's cheek trying to calm the kids screams. "Your goanna be okay. You just stay put and were goanna get you off this beach okay." Kenny said. He bit off a pig piece of surgical tape and finished up the bandage. He gave Butter's cheek on last stroke before he leapt up.

"Wait!" What's your name!"

"Kenny. Kenny McCormic."

"Please don't leave." Butters said desperately.

"I have to go help others son, but I promise well be back here to get you in no time."

Butters never did hear from Kenny again. Some months later he read that Kenny was killed in the Battle of the Bulge, spending his last seconds helping some other poor wounded soul and giving no regard to his own situation. Butters cried for him knowing, he owed his life to that man.

Butters lived to be 92 years old and every once in awhile he swore he saw Kenny McCormic just beyond the shadows, smiling at him warmly. He always smiled back, remembering fondly the heroism of the kind blonde medic that had saved his life.


End file.
